Echoes
by Lady Jadealiya
Summary: Post-Tresspasser. Lavellan struggles to come to terms with what might come to pass.


This is how it ends.

The veil falls, shattering the fragile peace of both Thedas and the Fade as the denizens of creation collide on a scale that beggars the chaos of the breach. You are among the first casualties, echoes of the anchor you once carried drawing demons like a lodestone. You wonder, if the Beyond is now here, if the Creators were false, what will happen as you leave this life behind. You mourn that he will now be remembered as the man who destroyed the world twice over and that you were unable to stop him. To save him.

No. You survive the chaos. Resilient, always. Reclaiming the powers and wonders of your people, he finds you and pledges to never again leave your side. He has restored your birthright and begs your forgiveness. You are Elvhen, at last as you were meant to be and still so in love. The horrors befalling the world seem to pale before the eternity stretching out before you both and you gladly accept him back into your heart.

No. You are immortal and all powerful and the memories of the price paid by the rest of the world weighs too heavily on your soul to ever enjoy it. You spurn him and dedicate your long life to saving what you can of the world you knew. It is such a small jump from love to hate and eternity is a long time to live with one's memories and sins and the echoes of love betrayed.

No.

This is how it ends.

The veil is unchanged, though your sleep is fitful as the Dread Wolf stalks your steps. You finally call out to him, demanding he cease tormenting you and either visit you properly or leave and stop haunting the edges of your sleep. He hesitantly comes to you, admitting that he cannot stay away. You continue to cross paths and carve out moments of quiet in the world of endless possibilities. A reprieve for you both from the pressures of your opposing tasks in the real world. You share visions of childhood and travel and places history has forgotten and allow yourselves to step away from the personas of Dread Wolf and Inquisitor and simply be. You never discuss what either of you are doing in your waking hours. You never learn more of his plans or how to stop them. You die of old age, loved but ignorant, unsure how long the world will last once you have left it behind.

No. Slowly, there is a shift in your meetings. A tension releasing as he comes to see the world as you see it. A mourning for what was lost and an acceptance for what is and finally the epiphany that he cannot follow through on his plans. As you love the world and as he loves you, he must endure the guilt of what was lost and find another path.

No. He never answers your call. He respects your demand to appear or leave and leaves. Your dreams forever more are silent and barren and it is as if the Dread Wolf never crossed your path.

No.

This is how it ends.

Whatever contingency he had in place failed. The Evanuris, mad and power hungry, escape their prison and descend upon a world that has forgotten them. The war that breaks out spreads further than the blight. You are in the midst of it, one of the few who can claim some small understanding of the forces assaulting the world, leadership now a mantle well worn and fit. You are leading a charge when an arrow sears through armor and flesh and sends you tumbling to the ground. The words inscribed upon its golden shaft are ancient elvhen and enchanted, a guidance spell meant to break through the strongest of barriers. "The Heart of Fen'Harel." Thoughts foolish and profound flit through your mind as you lay dying. He must still care. Curse the elvhen language for its contextually reliant lack of precision. He must still care. You die anonymously on the battlefield, one casualty among many as the war rages on.

No. He finds you and heals you and offers an alliance. His plans are in ruin, but the Evanuris must be dealt with. With your combined forces and knowledge, perhaps the world can be saved.

No. He finds you and heals you and walks away. He will not allow you to die in his stead, taking an arrow meant for him, but even amidst the carnage of plans gone awry he cannot afford to be distracted. He will continue upon the dinan'shiral and leave you to continue your fight alone.

No.

This is how it ends.

You confront him as he begins his ritual. He allows you to come closer than he should, his heart's misstep unnoticed by the mind. He doesn't see the ceremonial knife pressed in your hand. After all, he doesn't practice blood magic. You weep as you seal the spell, spilling a fatal amount of your blood to bind him to the fade. Sacrificing all you are and all you love to save the world. You are aware enough as you bleed out to feel his rage and despair, twisting what he was to darkness as he is locked away. Another abomination manifests as you die and you know the world will never know how close it came to ending.

No. His bound spirit lingers, clinging to you, begging not for his own release but for you to live. He is overwhelmed that he has driven you to this, guilt ridden and willing to match your sacrifice with one of his own. If you draw in his spirit, you will live. Two made one, together always, as was meant to be. You accept and in doing so die and are reborn and find new purpose from the merging of your wills.

No. He is gone and you die not knowing if it worked. A martyr blind to the aftermath of their actions, hoping it has been enough and guilt ridden that it came to this.

No.

This is how it ends.

It is all too much, too painful. You suspect he is gleaning your plans in the Fade and you know you cannot win when you are overwhelmed by the feelings you still carry. You have yourself made tranquil to escape his scrutiny and your love.

You beg Cole to make you forget. He eventually gives in and you live as but a shadow of yourself, fragmented but at peace.

You find him and force him to let you join him. The world will be remade and you have trouble remembering why that seemed such a terrible idea.

You find him too late. He is dead at the hands of enemies older and more powerful than anyone you have ever faced. He died alone and took your heart with him.

You find him and confront him and force him to kill you. He does, though he weeps as you die.

You never find him. You die before you can reach him. You are left alone, another drifting ghost crying out in the fade. Another sad story left unfinished. A tragic could have been. Forgotten and powerless and alone.

No. No. No.

 _Vhenan. Wake up._

This is how it is. Morning comes and you wake from increasingly frenetic dreams. You are alone in your room in your scantily occupied fortress and it is all you can do to hold yourself together. Today you will continue the battle to find some means of saving your world without losing your heart. You don't know how it will end. But you know, with a clarity that frightens you and your allies, that you love him and he loves you and that in the midst of darkness and dreams and old debts there is still hope. That is your damnation and your salvation and you hope and fear it will be his.


End file.
